


the most dangerous thing (you never know whatcha gonna get)

by bell (bellaboo), bellaboo, usomitai (bellaboo)



Category: Gravitation (Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-08-08
Updated: 2001-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-02 02:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaboo/pseuds/bell, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaboo/pseuds/bellaboo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaboo/pseuds/usomitai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some things in life that you don't ever want to happen to you because it involves massive amounts of emotional and physical pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the most dangerous thing (you never know whatcha gonna get)

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory Ramblings: This started out as a way to vent all my frustrations at careless newbie ficcers, using Shuichi and Yuki as my mouth piece. Somewhere along the way it became a story. A parody, yet a story nonetheless.
> 
> Not-so-Obligatory Thank Yous: To Mink, Ming, and Anna, thank you for looking it over and being so positive. Avarice-san, you dropped off the face of the earth, but I assume you have your reasons. ;_; Wherever you are, thank you, really. *bows* A good chunk of the fic was inspired by you. And huggies to Ingrid-san, who theorized with me over Shuichi and Yuki until our faces turned blue. You can thank her for the ending. ^_^

In life, there are many dangerous things.

These dangers can be slotted into several categories. Some are life threatening: for example, alligators, bombs, and walking in a lightning storm with a twenty-foot tall metal pole. Other dangers are painful ones, like having one's arm cut off or getting a paper cut. The third form of dangers are psychological traps, the sort of things that will result in insanity. Being stalked or being forced to watch sixty-three hours worth of infomercials are excellent ways of driving people mad.

Then there are unpredictable dangers; these are the worst kind. There's no way to estimate the resulting damage. Anything can happen: good, bad, or fatal.

A bored Shuichi is an unpredictable danger.

And bored was Shuichi.

"I'm boooooored," he complained to the ceiling. "It's not my fault that all the electronics in the room short-circuited. Okay, so yeah, I DID spill instant ramen all over Hiiro's guitar. And jumped around the room in pain. And then tripped on all the wires. But that wasn't my fault! It could have happened to anyone! Sakano didn't NEED to yell at me. And I didn't MEAN to tear Hiiro's jacket when I grabbed onto him to stop myself from falling. He doesn't have to be so pissed at me, does he?" Shuichi sighed. "It's not fair, is it?"

Shuichi interpreted the ceiling's silence as sympathy.

"So now our practice room has to be fixed. We can't do any rehearsals until then. And what's worse, none of the other members are talking to me! It's just so, so, SOOO mean!"

The ceiling offered more sympathetic silence, but Shuichi lost interest. He rolled onto his stomach and talked to the floor instead. "I wonder where Yuki is. He said he was going to go for a walk. Something about wanting to get a moment's peace from whiny pink haired vermin. I wonder what he meant? There aren't any bugs in the apartment."

He rolled onto his back again. He didn't want the ceiling to feel left out.

"Maybe," he considered, "Maybe I could go stalk Yuki." A wicked smile stretched on his face as he thought of all the places he could follow Yuki to, all the things he could see, and all the secrets he could unveil. Then Shuichi thought of how mad Yuki would get.

His smile fell. If Yuki got mad, they might have another fight, and for some odd karmic reason bad things ALWAYS happened to Bad Luck when he and Yuki fought. He re-considered stalking Yuki. "Nah."

His band. Shuichi knew ought to apologize to them somehow. But a direct apology was out of the question, because it WASN'T his fault, and Shuichi NEVER apologized. No way. Instead he'd have to do something so good, so cool, that the other members wouldn't be able to resist him.

 

"Whaddya think?" The ceiling offered as much advice as it had before. "Yeah, it's a tough one. But don't worry, we'll figure it out. Let's think of all the things the band needs."

Shuichi held up a single finger. One. "First of all, a vocalist. But I'm a perfect singer as it is, so no go." Two fingers. "Second, good music." He mulled over this; he was excellent at writing music. But... "Nah... Suguru would change it will around and get all the credit." Now three fingers. "Lyrics... lyrics.... YESSS!"

Shuichi leapt to his feet, fist firmly gripped victoriously. "That's it! That's it! I'll write the bestest, most romantic, lyrics of the year! The decade! The CENTURY!" He grinned, the sort of grin you associated with recently released convicts.

"Paper, paper, paper....." He looked around. And blinked. Shuichi had never thought about it before, but Yuki's (AND his, he reminded himself) apartment was so very bare. He'd have to decorate it, add some spice to the plain walls with a few Bad Luck posters. But that was for later. For now, he had to write the lyrics. With no paper. "Oh, *come on*! Yuki's a WRITER! Don't they use paper and pencils and pencil sharpeners?"

He paused. His memory was supplying him an image. Yuki at a table. Yuki's fingers moving with speed and precision. Yuki with a laptop in front of him.

Suddenly Shuichi's world made more sense. "He uses that to WRITE!" He giggled. "I thought he was looking up porn or something. Heh, I learn something new about him everyday."

"Now, to start writing." He started up the computer, only to stare at the screen for several minutes. Inspiration was slow in coming. "What should I write about? All our stuff is about love, so I guess it's okay if I do that again. Yeah. A love song. Everyone likes love songs." Shuichi beamed. "And I've got looooots of experience. I'll write about my super-romantic first meeting with Yuki!"

‘We met in the park,  
When I threw my paper in an arc.  
You laughed at me,  
You said ‘this is pure misery.'

To be honest, that wasn't quite what Shuichi had in mind. He'd forgotten just how... UN-romantic Yuki had been then. Shuichi frowned. "That's just too damned depressing. Let's try this instead...."

‘We ran into each other in the park,  
When I threw my paper in an arc.   
As it flew in the sky,  
You caught my eye.  
Love at first sight!

Love at first sight!'

Shuichi's fingers were now typing to the rhythm of the song as he sang along. Though Shuichi had a fine voice, the sort of thing one would want to hear while head banging at a crowded party, it still could not detract from the horror of the words.

‘You and me,   
Baaaby,  
Together forever,  
That's how it should be!'

"Yeah, that IS how it should be!" Shuichi slumped his chin onto his hand. He smiled, dreaming of he and Yuki walking into the Sunset of Eternity. He was getting to the good part, where they kissed, when Yuki suddenly stopped being out of character. ‘Idiot,' he called Shuichi. And ditched him.

Those were not happy thoughts. "It's not like that. It's not like that at all, is it?" He looked at his old friend, the ceiling. "Yuki lets me live with him and everything, but I don't know how he feels about me. I'm sure he likes me, at least a little bit, why else would he be with me? He could kick me out, any day...."

Shuichi pressed his forehead against the table, mulling over typical melodramatic, romantic tinged concerns. It was in the middle of contemplating Yuki throwing him out of the apartment, and then laughing at the starving singer as he raided trash cans for food (which was a fairly ridiculous concept, since Shuichi had many friends and a family willing to lodge him, and really, Yuki had better things to do than to laugh at ex-lovers) that Shuichi felt a surge of determation.

"Well, FINE then! So WHAT if Yuki doesn't love me! I'll MAKE him! I'll MAKE him love me! He'll be my love SLAVE!" He paused for a moment. "Hey, love slave would be a great song title. S-l-a-v-e o-f l-u-v. Heh heh, heh...."

Tapping his fingers on the table, Shuichi rummaged through his mind. "How to make Yuki love me, make him love me...."

It's a good thing that Shuichi thought at most once a week. Because, you see, Shuichi was about as intelligent as the average cocain addicted squirrel. Which means that every time he came up with an idea, someone, somewhere, would end up in pain.

Shuichi thought.

Another smile crept onto his face.

And somewhere, someone's fate was sealed.

*

Yuki unlocked the door if not happily, at least calmly. He had resigned himself to his fate. Shuichi was going to be inside his apartment, yes, and Shuichi was going to be a pain in the ass. But Yuki had built up a sort of tolerance to the pink haired horror. Besides, it would be silly for Yuki to cringe every time he walked into his home. If he did so, he'd never go back. Instead, he'd spend all his time in the park. Which Yuki didn't want to do. There are, after all, only so many cigarettes one man can smoke before he gets bored.

With a deep breath, Yuki opened the door.

"YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUKI!!!!"

A human cannonball flew straight at him, throwing its arms around his neck. "Yuki, Yuki, Yuki! I MISSED you!"

"So I see." With several weeks worth of practice, Yuki went through the routine of closing the door, walking into the apartment, disposing of Shuichi onto the couch, and making a cup of tea to sooth the inevitable headache that came from the leaping Shuichi love tackle.

"And, and, and! I've got a SURPRISE for you!"

"You don't say." Perhaps he should warm up more water than usual; Shuichi's ‘surprise' promised to be painful.

"Yes, I do!" Shuichi ran to the other room, and came back at twice the speed. He thrust a bundle of pages into Yuki's face. "I wrote a story! Just for you! So read it, please! I'm sure you'll love it!"

With a fatalistic air, he took the manuscript from the bouncing Shuichi. As Yuki read through it, he smirked, grimaced, and shook his head sadly a couple of times. Within 34.7 seconds he had skimmed the whole thing.

"Rubbish," Yuki pronounced, throwing it over his shoulder.

"Rubbish?!" Shuichi cried, diving for the precious papers before they hit the ground. "How can you say that?! This is a master piece, you hear me?! A work of art!"

"It's rubbish," Yuki countered calmly, as if citing the outside weather.

The boy smoothed the wrinkles out. "Good rubbish?" he asked hopefully.

"Plain rubbish."

"That's not fair!" Shuichi stood directly in front of Yuki. He waved the story around indignantly. "You hardly even looked at it! Tell me one thing, just ONE thing!"

"You use three different verb tenses in a single paragraph."

Shuichi silently reminded himself to later ask Hiiro what a verb tense was. "Whatever. It's not the grammar that counts, OR the spelling. Name something else."

"The characters names periodically change from ‘Shumi' and ‘Yuuto' to ‘Shuichi' and ‘Yuki' for the first two pages. After that they're permanently called ‘Shuichi' and ‘Yuki'."

Shuichi turned red; he had been so careful to avoid that. "Details, man, details."

"Your story consists of two guys meeting in a park, one of them falling instantaneously and passionately in love with the other after reading his inspiring lyrics-- which, incidentally, were putrid-- and then gazing at each other as they call each other ridiculously stupid nicknames like ‘strawberry cheesecake.' That's not a plot."

"ARRRGH! I don't CARE about good writing! You're missing the point, Yuki!"

"What's the point?"

"The point is that I love you!"

Yuki groaned. "That's the worst love confession I've *ever* received."

If Shuichi hadn't already built up a tolerance for Yuki's cruelly laced words, his heart would have been flatter than a pancake. As it was, he was well familiar with the routine. He interpreted Yuki's statement along the lines of ‘I'm embarrassed you feel that strongly for me.'

Shuichi was completely wrong-- Yuki meant exactly what he said-- but that did not matter too much, since it spared him his heart. "You're just being shy!"

"Yes. Shy. That's exactly how I feel right now."

The sarcasm did not escape Shuichi. It irked him. "You think you're such a hot shot, just ‘cause you won some stupid awards."

"I *am* a hot shot."

"Well, yeah, everyone wants you ‘cause you're... you're..." Calling Yuki ‘the hottest thing this side of the equator' at this point of the conversation seemed more than slightly unnecessary. "Anyway, that doesn't say a thing about your writing."

Yuki smirked. "I'm a first class writer."

"Well, *I* don't think you are."

"....Shuichi, you've never read a word I've written, have you?" The embarrassed silence did not convince Yuki otherwise. "You're pathetic." With that, Yuki lit himself a cigarette (talking to Shuichi always gave him a craving for nicotine) and turned on the TV. End of Conversation.

But Shuichi was not one to give up so easily. "Okay, FINE. I'll prove it to you. I'm gonna read that story you're writing. I know where you keep it!"

"Go ahead. The whole country will be reading it in a month."

Shuichi pulled the manuscript from its ‘hiding' place-- on a shelf, next to all of his other books, and clearly labelled ‘Yuki Eiri: Untitled'. He flipped through the pages, not entirely interested, when something caught his attention. A word, to put it politely, that was rarely used outside of material intended solely for adult readers. He blushed to the tip of his ears-- had he really seen that?

He looked again; yes, he wasn't imagining things, there it was. And a slew of similar words right in the same phrase. Glancing through the rest of the page, he saw that the whole thing was littered with such material. "Yuki, you can't publish this!"

"If it has my name on it, no editor will refuse it."

"But this is pure porn!"

"Just that one scene."

"And these are two guys! Who wants to read that?!"

"The ladies will love it."

"Where did you get the idea for this, anyway? Especially the bit with the banana costume."

Yuki gave him the Look. The look that all the people of the world, along with a few of the more intelligent animal species, understood. The Look that said better than any man-made word, ‘You are the absolutely BIGGEST idiot I know.'

"Remind me again why I'm sleeping with you."

"Because you love me?" The number of lights glinting in Shuichi's eyes would be considered small only when compared to the number of stars in the sky.

All people have a breaking point, which can-- once reached-- lead either to either insanity or acceptance. When Yuki reached his personal breaking point around Shuichi, for some unfathomable reason   
he was unable to resist the young man, not even with his bumbling innocence and his warbly glittering eyes. After all, as heartless as Yuki liked to imagine himself to be, he was not devoid of emotion.

Which didn't mean he was going to be nice about it. "No, not at all." Yuki laced his arm around Shuichi's shoulder, and pulled the younger man towards him. "But you *are* charming at times." Even without seeing his face, Yuki knew his words had been a success; Shuichi was snuggling against his chest, happier than a fuzzy warm bunny.

Yuki thought that if he were to engage in an activity as frivolous as referring to his lovers through endearments, strawberry cheesecake wouldn't be such a bad nickname. Not for Shuichi. Aside from the obvious reason-- the blob of pink hair-- it suited Shuichi perfectly. Perhaps it was because of whatever brand shampoo he used, or maybe it was natural to Shuichi's genes, but either way, one sniff made Yuki think of a sunny field of strawberries. He could see the vibrancy of the green leaves, smell the moisture of the fertile earth, and feel the comforting warmth unique to sunlight.

All in all, Yuki rather liked it.

Shuichi's head was so very conveniently leaning against his throat. Yuki took advantage of the situation; breathing in deeply, he absorbed the smell of Shuichi's hair. As always, it smelt of strawberries, as well as a faint scent that Yuki identified as being unique to Shuichi. A mixture of sweat (Shuichi was such an energetic young thing) and some mysterious ingredient. Yuki suspected that it was the metal from all the instruments that he used.

Their fight was fading in Yuki's mind, like all their other silly disputes did. Holding Shuichi close always did make him relaxed, at ease. Until, that is, his hormones made him think of other things. Like seeing Shuichi naked. Or feeling Shuichi's heart race against his own.

In fact, those thoughts were sounding downright appetizing. Yuki's hand twitched, demanding a chance to run up Shuichi's thigh. He complied-- who was he to deny his body desire? Shuichi purred, rubbing his head against Yuki. Quite an improvement. Before, such an explicit move would have made Shuichi yelp and jump five feet away, yelling that Yuki was a pervert. Good-- he was learning how to enjoy this.

Yuki lowered his head to nuzzle Shuichi's ear, licking the back of the lobe. "You know," he whispered between nibbles, "about those guys in the book, we could--"

"Oh!" One moment he was hugging a warm compliant Shuichi, the next, his arms were empty. Looking up, he saw Shuichi, with a wide smile, holding the manuscript.

Shock rendered Yuki silent.

"I've gotta read this! I take it *all* back, Yuki, you're a great writer! It figures that you'd write the first book I want to read." Shuichi plopped himself back onto the couch.He curled up, the manuscript across his legs. "I'll read the whole thing tonight! It looks really fun." Shuichi beamed him a smile as bright as the sun, and then settled in for a long read.

Yuki would have objected, if only he could think straight. He'd never been rejected before, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about it.

So, instead, he gaped as Shuichi read on, pleased as a button and just as clueless.

It was a most unsatisfactory night.

~ fini ~

*

-(omake)-

To: baaduraku_no_shuichi@badluck.jp.co  
From: hiiro@badluck.jp.co  
Subject: re: look at these kewl lyrics!!!

Hey Shuichi,  
Don't sweat it over the equipment. Sakano-san convinced Tohma-san to foot the bill. No, I don't know how. Maybe Sakano-san has got some great blackmailing material.

But even though we've forgiven you, you have to stop writing those lyrics. Stick to the vocals, kid, and lay off the porn. You should consider being more careful around that author of yours. He's giving you bad ideas.

I know what's good for you,  
Hiro

~ true ending ~


End file.
